Improvisation
by soraduck
Summary: They hate each other. Obviously. They're forced to share the same dorm. Loathsome. Love? Never. Never ever. Never ever ever. Is there room for change? Of course not. Being together? How ridiculous. Ha. Hahaha. But wait...


Hair askew, Hermione Granger walked briskly and determinedly down the hall, shoving all persons and bodies out of her path. A string of annoyed curses was left in her wake, and, in any other, normal situation, she would be more than happy to have deducted house points left and right for such unruly behavior. However, at the current, now was definitely not a normal situation, and, in fact, was quite the anxiety stirring predicament for the young witch.

Head Girl for barely more than two weeks, Hermione was assaulted, once again, by the same challenge that persisted to aggravate her every time she thought that all was well. Her robes billowed rambunctiously behind her with her swift pace, before briefly falling forward around her and coming to a hanging stop as she halted altogether. Now positioned in front of a slightly overshadowed door on the far side of the fourth floor's right wing, she attempted to gather herself before the encounter. Face slightly flushed from her speedy route to this "abandoned classroom", she inhaled very, very deeply, and on the same respective exhale, threw the door open. Her next inhale would only be to throw reprimands, as she was not at all surprised at what she saw before her.

The annoying, tiresome, egotistical, know-it-all, ingratiating Slytherin fools were having another "secret meeting", just to Hermione's absolute glee. Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and not to forget, the unmentionable Draco Malfoy were sitting, heads close in speculation around a small desk. Upon her appearing in the entrance, their faces were quickly washed over from that of plotting and up to no good, to that of shock and then reluctant acceptance, as this was a common event. Zabini was the first to demonstrate his disappointment as he let out a loud sigh. Furious was not the proper degree of anger that described her feelings at this point.

"Unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable! What do you idiots think that you're doing?" she demanded in a rush.

"Well, Granger, as you can see, before you so kindly interrupted, we were having a rather stimulating discussion that was more than likely not open to the likes of you," Draco reported in a rather informative and condescending manner.

"Yes, and you seem to have said something along those lines… oh… I don't know… the past four times that I have had to come after you?!" she replied, less than amused. Nott snorted (in a fashionable and not disgusting way, if that is possible) and leaned back in his chair, waiting for the ringleader to continue being their spokesman.

"Well, I can hardly see why, if it is so infuriating, that you make it your business to come barging into our midst at every chance," he retorted, flicking his head a little to the side in a motion that screamed I-am-so-much-better-than-you-and-you-should-just-accept-it. "Unless, of course, you have fallen for our deathly good looks… it wouldn't be surprising considering the drought you poor Gryffindor girls must suffer with all of those ugly potties and weasles running about. But then again, uglies suit uglies after all." The trio snickered amongst themselves at the comment, obviously enjoying the reaction that had mounted on Hermione's face.

"You… you…" she was at a loss for words for a moment, unable to keep track of what she was actually doing here. "If you think for a second that I am here of my own free will, you are greatly mistaken," she finally got out.

"And why is that?" Draco continued playing dumb, his friends unable to stop themselves from laughing at the scene unfolding before them. That only pissed her off even more.

"Stop acting the fool, although in most cases, you would be fulfilling your role perfectly," she said through gritted teeth. "I will say the same thing that I have said the past four times that I have barged in on you three's little love affair rendezvous." They looked at her murderously for this remark, but she continued nonetheless. "Right now, or shall I say, three minutes before now, was one of the twice weekly prefect meetings. And who, Malfoy, do you think is supposed to oversee, lead, and delegate during these meetings?"

"Well," Draco responded, "why don't you tell us since you seem always seem to find answering questions to be pleasurable. Probably the only way you are able to satisfy yourself anyway," he finished smartly. The snickering ensued. And so did the growing fury.

"In that case," she all but yelled, her face red with both embarrassment and unmatchable anger, "I will happily divulge this information so that your useless brain may attempt to soak it up once again. Both the Head Girl _and_ the Head Boy are expected to attend, and by expected, I mean that it is mandatory. And of course this would include one Hermione Jean Granger, and one, unfortunately for you but even more unfortunately for me, Draco Malfoy."

They stopped laughing at her pointed statement, although already more than aware of this information. Her anger was almost scaring them, and they were supposed to be sneaky good-for-nothing-but-fear-tactics Slytherins.

"And you two," she continued, walking straight up to their table and glowering down at both Zabini and Nott, "while this is a free period for us because we have special duties to attend to, shouldn't you be attempting, albeit failing, to prattle off some spells with Professor Flitwick at this time?"

Her insult prompted Nott to his feet instantly. "Why you dirty mudblood—" he started, only to be cut off promptly.

"Ten points from Slytherin for each of you for skipping classes and five for foul language." She turned on her heel and made her way to the door before turning one last time. "And you, Malfoy, will be at the next meeting, or I will bring this especially to Professor McGonagall _and_ Professor Snape's attention the next time we have our head meeting, is that clear? I don't think that even your Severus will be able to look favorably upon his prized student's behavior in this situation."

And just like that she was gone again, hearing only quickly fading complaints along the lines of "stupid mudblood". She smiled, satisfied with her showing (getting the last word didn't hurt either), and continued on her way to the Great Hall for dinner as if meeting with that trio had just been a short and timely visit along the way.

-

"I'm sick of it!" She ranted over a piece of tantalizingly sweet lemon pie, "Every single time we have a meeting, he doesn't show up! Instead I am forced to do everything myself and then go find him afterwards! I'm even picking up half of his patrol duties because he drops by my room and tells me that he's going to be 'preoccupied'. I don't know how he was ever selected to be Head Boy in the first place." Her fellow Gryffindors and close friends were quick to take her side.

"It's ridiculous really," Ron mumbled through bites of what had to have been his fourth piece of double chocolate cake from across the table, "I mean he's a good for nothing traitor, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was a death eater himself."

"Ron!" Hermione cut in rather quickly, regardless of her distaste for the Slytherin. "Don't let the professors hear you speaking that way. They could have you in detention for weeks with those kind of accusations… with Filch!" He grimaced at the thought.

"Just trying to make you feel better 'Mione," he said sheepishly, taking a full bite of his dessert.

"Oh, I know Ron. Thanks," she said, her face softening. She reached across the table and rested her hand on his unoccupied forearm. He smiled up at her, forgetting that his mouth was still full of cake, the sight not very beautiful to say the least. Hermione laughed at his childish reaction, and turned to her other friend who was next to him, "How do you think I should handle him, Harry? You would know better than me."

"I think you should throw him a Confundus every now and again to remind him just how serious you are," he said mischievously, although, seriously.

"Something that _won't_ get me put on probation is preferable," she laughed, "but it is an appealing idea."

"While you're at it you should hit him with a Tarantallegra," Ron offered, his eyes lighting up at the thought. "I would just love to see Malfoy dancing a two step in public. Can you imagine the humiliation? He'd be furious." Harry and Hermione started laughing, taking great pleasure in the thought of Malfoy's pain.

"I'm sure you'll think of something Hermione, you haven't ever come up short yet," Harry added reassuringly.

"I hope so. Thanks guys. You should have seen the row I caused him, Zabini, and Nott earlier." She began to recount her experience excitedly to her friends, her spirits greatly lifted compared to earlier that evening.

Unfortunately for her, she did not notice the pair of strikingly gray eyes that were scanning her from a separate house table. Their owner was engaged predominately in strategizing a delicate ploy for control. Malfoy could not risk her stumbling unwantedly into his various domains any longer, especially when he and his two trustees were plotting… well… he would make sure that she would never find that out. He would have to do things differently from now on. But that didn't mean that he had to like it.

He watched as she got up to leave, removing her grasp from the Weasley, and waving good-bye to her friends. His eyes narrowed to slits and he further preoccupied himself with his own Slytherin mates. He had barely noticed it before, but now he carefully removed Pansy's hand from his leg. Dinner finished, he stood up to make his way back to the Head dorms, with a minute feeling of disgust and the urge to vomit. Whether it was brought on by Pansy (he was so over her 5th year), or the possibility of running into Granger, he did not know. He speculated that it could have been a little bit of both.

Before leaving he shared a purposeful glance between Zabini and Nott, and they knowingly grinned back at him. On the way back to the common room, Draco Malfoy knew one thing: Now, it was game time.

* * *

I have no idea where this is going. Let's hope it's somewhere interesting.


End file.
